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Andrew--
"Clinging to the bottom" is stretching it a bit. He had a nice, big house with a frickin' name--Mendips, I think. He was about as working class as I am.
It's true he claimed to be working class--except when he didn't, and acknowledged these claims to be the suburban tough-guy fantasy they were. (He also admitted to being scared of genuinely working class guys, including Ringo.)
As for the Emerson argument, I remember seeing it when I was a twelve year old Lennon fanatic and being extremely troubled. Her accusations made so much sense. Could my hero be a phony?
Well, yeah, but it doesn't matter, because he was brilliant, and because he was self-aware enough to occasionally cut through his own bullshit. All the self-aggrandizing messianic bullshit and overrated songs (I'm looking at you, "Imagine") in the world can't erase "I Am the Walrus."
